It is the Duty of the King to Die For His Realm
by Destined Darkness
Summary: A sort of what if story for after the Battle of Five Armies thing, because I'm bored... and my brain is dead because of Chemical Formulae. :/ Damn summaries...
1. Pain So Familiar

I have no idea what I'm doing but I'm doing it so just deal with it my peeps. :)

Anyways. I suppose this is like... a 'what if' story for the Hobbit after the battle and like Thranduil's hurt but he's a stubborn arse so he won't tell anyone and stuff... so yeah... enjoy I think :) Updates will be random because everything about me is random. :)

Oh, and because someone is PROBABLY going to ask, the whole thing with the ribs, I've got something wrong with mine and there's one that really annoys me because if I lean against something that digs into my ribs at the right spot, something will click and I'll feel like I'm floating or there's other times where I can literally GRAB my rib and pull on it and that actually makes me feel all loopy and like I'm going to pass out so yeah, whatever, I transferred that over to here, but whatevers... :)

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><p>Prologue: Pain So Familiar<p>

Collapsing onto his bed, Thranduil presses his hand against his ribs and breathes deeply as the world swirls as he feels something shift beneath his hand and rub against something it shouldn't. By the time he works out that he's now lying on the bed, he doesn't really care, he's still floating and as odd as the sensation is, it's kind of nice. He realizes that's not what he's meant to be thinking but right now he doesn't really care.

He's_ tired_, just sick and tired of this, of fighting and killing and watching his friends die. He tries to ignore the way his ribs click when he presses against them a certain way, and he tries not to get a loopy-out-of-his-mind smile on his face when one of his broken ribs rubs against another causing him to feel light headed and giddy. Of course, no one _knows _he's injured, no one knows he's got 3 broken ribs, a nasty gash across his chest and a slit on his wrist that goes the longways not across, but no one knows this. He's far to good at hiding these things.

The battle had been hard, but they won, they did. And they gained new friends even as they lost them. Thranduil sighs as he rolls over, his head pounding painfully, he really, very was sick of this. He just wanted a few thousand years where he didn't crawl into bed every few months, bruised and bloody and broken from fighting, was that too much to ask?

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><p>Legolas frowns as he peeks out of his room and stares at the double doors leading to his father's bed chambers. Something has been off about his father, ever since that battle, the battle of the five armies but Legolas just can't put his finger on it.<p>

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><p>I have... no idea... R&amp;R :D<p> 


	2. Fear

Was gonna say something here but can't remember what... damn brain... stop being stupid.

Disclaimer: Don't own.

I still have no flipping idea what's happening with this so... don't even ask... like seriously don't even go there... :P

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><p>Chapter 1: Fear<p>

Legolas scowls darkly at his surroundings as he follows the rest of his patrol through the forest, on their route to the rendezvous point with the second patrol, where they would exchange news of the land and discuss any new Spider's nests or Orc camps. Legolas is annoyed they'd had to start out earlier this morning because of the heightened security from the Battle of Fire Armies, so the patrols had been sent out at 4:00 that morning and were not due back until 2:00 that afternoon and Legolas would rather be back in his Father's halls, able to keep an eye on him. He feels uneasy, anxious even, he's worried that he'll return to find his father bleeding out in the Healing Halls, or worse, dead.

He hears a rustling and the crack of twigs underfoot behind the bushes to their left about three meters away. He aims his bow at the offending bushes as a sharp intake of breath can be heard.

"Estel! Ada has warned you about this, and so has Glorfindel, many times. If you wish to sneak up on an elf, then you need to be silent about it." A familiar, musical voice calls. Legolas freezes and a frown mars his face.

"Fine, Dan, let me go." Another familiar voice says and Legolas can practically feel the scowl in it. There's laughter and then the sound of someone falling to the floor.

"As you wish, brother." Legolas eyes the rest of his patrol before stowing his bow away and climbing up into the tree above him and hanging down to peer over the bushes.

"And I believe I've told you three that if you wish to sneak around in the Realm of the King of the Mirkwood then you need to be silent and stealthy about it." He says, giving the three brothers a smirk, laughing as Estel gasps and places a hand over his heart, his breathing fast from where he lays sprawled on the floor, Elladan standing over him. Elladan smiles and looks up at Legolas while Elrohir rolls his eyes from where he's lounging against the bow of the tree.

"Oh don't be so vain, dearest Prince, one elf sneaking up on another elf could go unnoticed. Two elves sneaking up on one elf would also go mostly unnoticed. Eight elves sneaking up on two elves and a ranger, surely not. I heard you coming a mile away. I doubt you heard us though... until Estel decided to play a little game with Elladan, that is." the younger twin says, glaring at his brothers. There's a pause before all three are looking at Legolas concerned.

"Legolas!" Exclaims Estel, attempting to examine the Prince and finding it difficult when Legolas swings out of his reach.

"Why are you outside of the Palace?" asks Elladan, eyeing the Prince up and down.

"You've just been in battle, mellon nin, why aren't you resting? Valar knows it's impossible for you to have survived that battle with little more than a scratch, how come your father to let you go so soon?" A dark look crosses Legolas's face and he looks behind him at his patrol, awaiting his orders. Legolas sighs and makes the signal for his patrol to continue on without him while he jumps down from the tree and lands beside Estel who promptly latches onto Legolas and starts checking him over. Legolas shoves him away, harder than he meant to, Estel frowns at him. Legolas listens as the sound of his patrol, conversing in hushed whispers to each other as they head off, fade away. He sighs, and turns to the tree, one hand coming up to rest against the bark as he lowers his head against it, eyes closing. The brother's share worried glances as Legolas starts to speak.

"Adar is... Adar is not well. He got injured in the battle, I know he did. He just won't admit it and I am worried. Since the battle's end, he has wanted nothing but to rest and drink his wine. He complains when someone tries to stop him from doing either, we can't have a King who only drinks and sleeps on the aftermath of Battle. It is not right and it is not something we can allow him to do, it's not something he would ever allow himself to do, unless he was ill. I went in to tell him goodbye this morning, when I left and his eyes were closed. He woke up as soon as I sat on the bed though and he claimed he had only been resting his eyes, but that's a lie. He was asleep and I know it, he was relaxed, calm to the extent he never is while he's awake. I don't know what to do." he says, shoulders slumping and his hands clenching into fists. Elladan sighs and puts a hand on Legolas's shoulder, ignoring the flinch from the Prince as he does so.

"Let us back to your home, mellon nin, my brothers and I will have a look over your father, with trickery if necessary. After all, Adar did send us on this trip to come and check on you both..." he says, Legolas gives a nod and takes a deep breath before standing up, squaring his shoulders and heading back towards the Palace, the brothers rushing to catch up, Elladan gives Elrohir a concerned glance, unnoticed to Estel as he falls into step beside the Elf Prince. Elrohir shrugs in reply to his brother's look.

"I don't know." he whispers, falling into step beside his elder brother. They fall into silence as they walk back towards the Halls of Thranduil the Elven King of Mirkwood.

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><p>Thranduil groans as he wakes up, it's 7o'clock in the morning and he should have been awake at least 2 hours ago. Sighing he sits up, gasping in pain and falling back against his pillows, hands scrambling to and clawing at his chest as a red stain appears on his tunic. He struggles to breathe, his head digging back into his pillow, his eyes unfocussed. He twitches but continues to claw at his chest, the action more frantic as his breathing comes in helpless gasps. Suddenly it's over and he collapses into his bed, he leans his head over the bed and spits, splattering the marble floor with blood. He coughs and rolls onto his back, puffing. His forehead is glistening with sweat, his throat feels raw and his chest is bleeding. He moans in pain and helpless agony as he feels like he's being torn in two.<p>

Carefully rolling out of the bed and to his feet, he stumbles to the bathroom and observes himself in the mirror. He frowns at the blood stain across his chest that is still growing and the stain on his sleeve from where the cut on his arm reopened. Tearing the tunic off he examines the wound on his chest, fear races through him when he sees the cut has been stained black and that there's a slight black tinge to the blood that still seeps from the wound. He takes a step back, stumbling as his legs give out beneath him. He gives a shout as he falls, his chest begins to burn and he struggles to breathe, his eyes roll back in his head and he passes out as he hits the ground and knows no more.

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><p>R&amp;R :D :P<p> 


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